


The Best Laid Plans

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Anal Sex, Celebrity Crush, Costume, Gay Romance, Gay Sex, Kidnapping, Love, Love Confessions, Love Hotel, Lust, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sex Toys, monkey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: Tatsuha is finally ready to do something about his major crush on Sakuma Ryuichi...and he has a cunning plan to get some alone time with his crush. But the best laid plans will often go awry...this story is in the same timeline as the story Relax and A Day in the Life, and if you want to know about the origins of the monkey George, you have to read A Day in the Life first.





	1. Chapter 1

'There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to be willing to risk it all for what he wants,' thus thought one Uesegi Tatsuha, as he sat cross-legged in his bedroom at the family temple. He was wearing his monk’s robes, having just come from a prayer ceremony. 'And by Buddha, now is that time for me.'

His head turned as he let his black eyes slide over the walls of his room, covered with posters of his God, Sakuma Ryuichi. Like Martin Luther King, Tatsuha had a dream – a dream that had driven and obsessed him for years. His one great wish in life was to actually meet his idol face-to-face. But that had never happened yet, despite the fact that his older brother’s lover Shindou Shuichi actually knew and had worked with Ryuichi. It was so unfair, that Shuichi got to hang around with his darling Ryuichi, while Tatsuha couldn’t even get within speaking distance of the man! He’d laid more than one curse on his Aniki for refusing to help him in his quest. And a few on Shuichi, too, while he was at it. Obviously he was going to have to do this himself, with no help from anyone else.

Ah, but he had a plan. And he meant to carry out the plan very soon. If this didn’t work, he’d just have to accept that the Fates hated him and didn’t want him to pursue his dream anymore. He’d already prepared part of the plan, and now he just had to execute the rest of it. With that in mind, he got to his feet and left his room. He padded barefoot down the hallway, going into the kitchen where he found his father making some tea. 

“Hey, Dad,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Since college is out for the summer, I was hoping that I could go stay in Tokyo for a week with Eiri and Shuichi. Can I?”

The elder Uesegi turned around to look at his youngest son. “Why do you want to go to Tokyo this time?” the older man asked suspiciously. “Going to another of those ridiculous Nittle Grasper concerts?”

Truthfully, Tatsuha shook his head. “There aren’t any Nittle Grasper concerts scheduled for this week,” he said. “I just kinda wanted to spend some time with my big brother. So what do you say, Dad? Can I?”

The monk cocked his head sideways. He still looked suspicious. “Why don’t you go and stay with your sister and Tohma instead?” he asked.

Tatsuha almost groaned aloud. Hurriedly he sought for an excuse other than the truth, which was that he couldn’t stand Tohma, and all Mika ever did was lecture him. “Well, Dad, I hardly ever get to see Eiri, and Mika comes to stay here all of the time. I guess I just wanted to get some family bonding in. But if you want me to go stay with Mika I guess I will…” Tatsuha said with a little boy sigh.

As he’d thought, the ‘family bonding’ line worked like a charm. “Very well,” his father said. “But you have to get permission from your brother first. No just showing up at his doorstep like you always do, and then annoying him until he let’s you stay with him. If you can’t get permission, you can’t go.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Tatsuha said happily. “I’ll just go and call him now. Thanks.”

The elder Uesegi smiled at the way his son’s face lit up. He wouldn’t have been smiling, though, if he’d known the thoughts going through that black head, however. Tatsuha hightailed it back to his room to grab his cell phone, then went outside to call not his brother(who he just KNEW would say no) but Shuichi. The pink-haired little singer had a lot of influence over his lover, far more than even Eiri seemed aware of, and Tatsuha knew that if he could talk Shuichi into asking if he could stay for a week, then Yuki would inevitably say yes. Eventually, anyway. After Shuichi had begged and pleaded and used those huge violet eyes(not to mention that hot little body) to good affect.

“Hello!” Shuichi’s voice caroled over the other end of the line. “This is Shuichi.”

“Hey, Shuichi, this is Tatsuha,” the young monk replied.

“Oh. Hi, Tatsuha-kun.” There was wariness in Shuichi’s voice, which the other boy couldn’t blame him for. Shuichi didn’t trust him after some of the stunts he’d pulled. He made his voice as wheedling and coaxing as possible. “Listen, I just called because I’m hoping that you’ll help me. I want to come and spend some time with Eiri, just hang out with my big brother, but I know that he’ll say no if I ask. He always says no. But I really want to come and see him, so I was hoping that you could talk him into it for me.”

“Uhhh…” 

“I know that this is asking a lot,” Tatsuha went on hurriedly before the singer could think of a way to turn him down, “But I didn’t know where else to turn. If I asked Mika to help me, she’d just badger Eiri until he got mad, and then he’d tell me that I could never come to see him again. And Tohma would just give me a lecture about how I shouldn’t bother him. But Dad says that I can’t come and stay with you guys unless I actually get Eiri’s permission this time. So will you help me, Shuichi? Please? I’m begging you,” he strove to sound as earnest and puppy doggish and little boy hopeful as possible. He knew that Shuichi wouldn’t be able to resist his blandishments.

“Okay,” though he still sounded doubtful, the singer reluctantly agreed to help him.

Tatsuha beamed at the phone. “You rock, Shuichi! Figuratively as well as literally. Would you call me back if you manage to talk big brother into it? I’m counting on you.”

“All right. I gotta go now, Tatsuha-kun, K-san’s glaring at me.”

“Sure. Talk to you soon,” 'I hope,' he thought as he turned off his phone and thrust it into the pocket of his robes. 

He went back into the temple and into his room. Pulling a backpack out of his closet, he packed essentials for his trip to Tokyo. These mostly consisted of Nittle Grasper CDs and concert DVDs. As an afterthought, he rolled up three changes of clothes and stuffed them in there as well, along with a plastic bag with his toothbrush and toothpaste in it. Last but not least, he knelt on the floor and pulled up a loose board where he kept his stash. Not drugs, but cash. He pulled out a not insubstantial roll of yen, knowing he’d need most of it to carry out his plan. He took it over to the backpack and shoved it way down to the bottom.

He knew that his family would wig out if they ever saw that money. They’d think that he’d gotten it selling drugs, or running guns, or something else equally illicit. His father seldom gave him any spending money, and certainly not that much at one time. But he’d gotten the money quite legally – although they’d probably get mad and lecture him, anyway, if they knew how he’d done it. What none of his family was aware of was that he was a cut-throat poker player. He’d taken the meager amount of spending money his father had given him, and had used it to get into a game. Through a combination of his fantastic luck and skill, he’d managed to walk out with ten times as much money as he’d gone into the game with. 

He’d saved the money, knowing that he’d need it for just such an occasion. Dreams generally required funding to make them come true, after all; he knew that. And now he was finally going to try to make his come true. He felt as excited and nervous as a little kid now that the time had finally arrived. 

He changed into street clothes, although he knew that Shuichi probably wouldn’t call today to tell him that he’d succeeded. It was better to be safe than sorry. He dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and draped his leather motorcycle jacket across his bed where he could grab it. He stuffed his cell phone into the front pocket of his jeans and went back into the kitchen to get something to eat. His father was gone, having taken his tea and retired to the back porch to meditate. He opened the fridge and peered in at the contents, deciding finally on some left over miso soup and some of the vegetable stir fry from last night. He scarfed this down cold, leaning against the counter as he stared out the window idly. His mind was full of his first meeting with Ryuichi, and visions of how he’d charm the socks off of the lovely singer gave him a warm glow, as he took the last bite of the stir fry and washed the plate out in the sink.

Bored and restless, he wandered out into the garden and sat down next to the fish pond. He watched the fat, lazy Koi swimming in the water, resting his arms on his upturned knees. There were times like this when he hated being a monk. When the temple felt stifling, and he longed to get out into the bigger world and do something exciting. At other times, he rather liked the ceremony and sameness of life here. And college could be just as boring and depressing, chock full of mind-numbing classes and droning professors. He was only eighteen. He had a teenager’s restless spirit, combined with a young man’s love of excitement. Often he felt like a caged bird, just wanting to stretch his wings and fly away from Kyoto and his family obligations for good. 

He listened to the song of real birds in the trees and tried to empty his mind of all thoughts like he did when he was meditating. But that was impossible. Images of Ryuichi kept dancing in his head. Of the way he looked when he was on-stage, with his shirt undone so that you could see the sweat sheening his skin; of the way his slim hips swayed as he danced, and his sapphire eyes went low-lidded and sultry; and the way his long, slim fingers caressed the microphone in a way that always made Tatsuha feel as though his head were going to explode every time that he watched it…

He groaned as he squirmed uncomfortably. Great – he’d managed to give himself a stiffie of major proportions. He could go back inside and jerk off while watched one of his concert DVDs, which is what he so often did. But he didn’t want to do that. Something told him that if he did that, right in the middle of it Shuichi would call to tell him that he’d talked Yuki into letting him stay. That was just his luck – it was both phenomenal and abysmal, taking it in turns. He wanted to be able to get out the door right away, not have to finish himself off and clean up afterward before he bolted. He feared that if he didn’t make it a done deal, Yuki would call and tell him that he’d changed his mind about the whole thing now that Shuichi had left the room. He knew how his Aniki thought. He had to keep a step ahead of him all the way.

So he remained where he was, but he unsnapped and unzipped his jeans to give himself some relief from the constricting agony of the stiff fabric. It was his own damn fault, anyway, falling into daydreams of Ryuichi when he was in the middle of trying to make those dreams a reality. He should have more mental discipline than that. He must be like one of those warrior monks who went into battle armed not only with their weapons but with a firm will and a steely control over themselves. Time passed, he wasn’t sure how much, but a brilliant sunset was starting to take over the sky when his ears heard a welcome noise.

The opening bars of a Nittle Grasper song rang through the garden. Hurriedly he pulled out his phone(wrestling for it with the unyielding denim of his jeans) and flipped it open. “Mushi mushi, this is Tatsuha,” he said, trying to contain his hope. It was probably just Mika, calling to lecture him about something. 

But to his eternal joy, Shuichi’s light voice came over the phone. “Hi, Tatsuha. So I just got home a little while ago, and I talked to Yuki. He didn’t want you to come at first…” unspoken in his voice was the cursing and growling that would have taken place at such a request. Tatsuha wasn’t put off about that. He was used to the way his Aniki was; besides, this wasn’t really about staying with Yuki, anyway. Crashing at his brother’s apartment was just a jumping off place for his real intentions while in Tokyo. But since it was an essential place… “Please tell me you managed to change his mind,” he said to Shuichi.

“Yeah…He said that you could come and stay, IF you don’t disturb him while he’s writing, and you don’t get arrested or anything and expect him to come and bail you out, and if you…umm…keep your hands to yourself where I’m concerned.”

Tatsuha felt a faint blush rose in his cheeks. He was kind of embarrassed about having pawed Shuichi just because he looked a bit like Ryuichi, especially since in his opinion the pink-haired singer was nice enough, and talented in his own right, but still just a pale imitation of his own fair God. “Gotcha,” he replied. “That’s a promise. So I can come?”

“Sure. You don’t mind sleeping on the couch?”

“Of course not. That’s where I always sleep. It’s better than the floor, that’s sure. So I’ll see you in a little while. And thanks again, Shuichi. I owe you one.”

“No problem,” he sounded like he meant that, and Tatsuha mused again as he closed his phone that his brother was a really lucky man. Not that Eiri would ever admit that. Sure, Shuichi could be a bouncy, idiotic little headache at times, but he had a heart of gold. And that’s just what Yuki needed, since as far as Tatsuha could tell his brother didn’t have much of a heart at all. 

He jumped to his feet and zipped himself back into his jeans, thankful that his problem had subsided enough for him to be able to do that. Then he raced back into the temple to grab his back pack and his jacket from his room. Slinging both of these articles on, he went out to the back porch to tell his father that he was leaving for Tokyo. “Your brother actually said yes?” the older monk said, raising his eyebrows in faint disbelief. At Tatsuha’s assenting nod, he shook his head. “What is the world coming to?” he remarked to the air. “All right. Have a good time, and don’t get into any trouble,” he added sternly with a warning look for his rambunctious, mischievous youngest offspring.

“Sure thing, Dad.” Tatsuha hurried out to the front hall to lace on his boots at the door. 

His heart was singing (a Nittle Grasper tune, of course) as he went out to his motorcycle. As he put in his helmet, he crossed his fingers mentally. This week would see his ultimate triumph or ignominious defeat. That was enough to make any man sweat. He mounted his bike and put up the kickstand, starting the engine with a roar. 'Tokyo here I come!' he thought gleefully as he kicked up gravel from the drive way as he drove rather recklessly out into the street. 'Ryuichi, my eternal Deity, soon your number 1 fan will come and worship at your feet!'


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tatsuha starts to carry out his brilliant plan.

Tatsuha was having the best dream ever. In it, he was lying naked on his bed back at the temple. Ryuichi was on top of him, riding him like a wild pony. He looked up at the naked, sweating, writhing man on top of him, and he groaned loudly in pleasure. Ryuichi smiled dreamily down at him out of his lovely sapphire eyes, and splayed his fingers across Tatsuha’s chest as he began to plunge up and down on his cock even harder and faster. His mouth – that sweet, beautiful mouth that produced such wonderful music – opened as he threw back his head and cried out his name…

“Yuki!” screamed the dream Ryuichi. “Yuki, I’m coming!” 

Tatsuha awoke with a jerk, covered in a cold sweat. The horror of having his dream lover call out his brother’s name in ecstasy was enough to jerk anyone out of a sound sleep. And worse – his dazed, sleep addled mind realized that he’d worked real sounds into his dream. The cries coming from the direction of the bedroom were very distinct. Tatsuha groaned, putting his pillow over his face to try to muffle the sounds of his brother having sex with Shuichi (or maybe just to try to smother himself, he wasn’t sure). After a minute, the sounds finally died away. He sighed in relief as he stuck the pillow back under his head again. 

It was only then that he realized just how realistic that dream had been. He became aware of wetness in his boxers, which were the only things he was wearing. He sat up on the couch abruptly, pushing the blanket back to peer at himself in the dim light coming from the kitchen. Sure enough – he’d come in his boxers. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d had a wet dream. Maybe when he was about thirteen or so…he made a face as he crawled off the couch and padded down the hallway to the bathroom to clean up. He wouldn’t have minded the dream so much (after all, he’d been having sex with Ryuichi in it) if it hadn’t ended the way it had. Having his God screaming out his brother’s name in Shuichi’s voice was disconcerting, to say the least. It made him feel dirty.

In the bathroom, he peeled off the wet boxers and climbed into the shower. He didn’t care if Yuki and/or Shuichi heard him taking a shower in the middle of the night. After all, THEY hadn’t cared that he could quite clearly hear them having sex out in the living room. Hell, Eiri had probably done it on purpose just to discommode him. His brother’s sense of humor was as twisted as the rest of him. He scrubbed away the traces of semen on his skin, and then rinsed out the boxers in the shower. Stepping out onto the bathroom mat, he turned off the water and wrung out the boxers so that they were only slightly damp. Then he went back into he living room, right at this moment too disgruntled to care that someone might come out of the bedroom and see him naked. 

He threw himself back down on the couch and draped the damp boxers over the back. He didn’t care that they might leave a stain on Eiri’s precious sofa right about now, either. His great dream had been ruined and tainted by his brother’s sex life, and for that Tatsuha wasn’t going to forgive him any time soon. Pulling the blanket back over himself, he folded his arms behind his head and moodily stared up at the shadowy ceiling overhead. He knew that he should try to get back to sleep, because he was setting his plan in motion tomorrow. He needed to be sharp and on the ball. But he wasn’t sure that he could get back to sleep after that little incident. Having a wet dream with a ‘climax’ like that one was just too disturbing. He didn’t even want to think about Eiri’s sex life, let alone imagine it or have it work its way into his dreams. It was almost enough to put a man off sex for life. Almost.

 

The next morning Tatsuha awoke early. His body was set to get up early, since between going to college and early morning ceremonies at the temple he seldom got to sleep in. And he was sometimes up at dawn. He yawned as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes. It had taken him at least an hour to get back to sleep last night after that dream, and he felt logy and zombie like as he tried to get his brain to fire properly. It took him a minute to remember that he was naked, and to slip the still rather damp boxers back on under the blanket. Then he rose from his bed like Lazarus from the tomb and staggered off to the bathroom to perform his morning ablutions. 

He was rinsing his face in cold water to try to wake up when Shuichi barged into the bathroom. “Oops!” the little pink-haired singer cried, coming to a halt when he saw Tatsuha leaning over the sink. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were up.”

The teen shrugged as he straightened up. “I’m done anyway. Help yourself” he said shortly, brushing past Shuichi without saying another word to him. He could almost hear the puzzlement being directed his way. But there was no way that he was going to explain about last night. He didn’t know which one of them would be more embarrassed, and he wasn’t going to try to find out. 

He went back into the living room and dug out a change of clothes from his backpack. He got dressed quickly, for it was a little chilly in the living room with only a pair of damp boxers on. He zipped up his jeans and went into the kitchen to snag something to eat. Here he found his brother also up and about, making breakfast. He sniffed the air as he flung himself into a chair at the kitchen table. “Smells good,” he said hopefully. 

Yuki gave him a jaundiced look over his shoulder. “Is that your way of saying you want me to cook for you, too?” he asked sardonically. 

Tatsuha nodded unrepentantly. “You’re such a good cook, big bro,” he said amiably, which earned him a twisted quirk of the lips before Yuki turned back to the stove. “Shuichi’s going to work, and I have a deadline to meet. So you’ll have to find something to do to entertain yourself today,” he said coolly.

“I think I can do that,” Tatsuha replied in equally frosty tones. 

The writer snorted. “I hope it's something legal,” he replied cynically.

Tatsuha didn’t say anything. Technically what he had planned for today wasn’t legal, and if his brother-in-law Tohma caught him he’d be in deep shit. But he truly didn’t care at this point. He considered that this whole thing, and the desperate acts that he was being driven to, was partly both his brother’s and Tohma’s fault, as well. Either of them could have introduced him to Ryuichi at any given time. Hells, Tohma was in the same band as the man! Not that that blonde bastard would ever go out of his way to do something so unselfish. He eyed the back of his brother’s head. Maybe it was something about blondes?

Yuki set a plate in front of him with half an omelet on it. “Thanks, bro,” he said as he picked up his fork. The writer snorted, but said nothing else. 

Shuichi bounced into the kitchen, freshly showered and with his pink hair still damp. He grinned in greeting to Tatsuha, who waved his fork at him but didn’t stop eating. The singer pattered over to the cupboard to fetch down a bowl and a box of cereal that was (as far as Tatsuha could tell) pure sugar. He dumped a bunch in the bowl and poured milk over it before he plopped into a chair at the table and began to scarf up the super sweet stuff happily. :No wonder he’s so dementedly energetic: Tatsuha thought. :He’s on a constant sugar high:

Yuki sat down in a third chair and began to eat his part of the omelet. He ignored Shuichi, who was attempting to have a conversation with him while his mouth was full of the sugary cereal. The singer wasn’t put out by his silence, and instead turned to Tatsuha and began to chatter at him. The monk sighed internally, but in the end decided to just let the flow of words pass over him without paying too much attention to them. That is, until he heard the singer say ‘Ryuichi’. “What was that?” he asked, setting down his fork abruptly.

Yuki snorted into his omelet, but Tatsuha ignored him. Shuichi’s big violet eyes blinked at him. He’d been thrown off track by Tatsuha’s sudden demand. “What?” he said, cocking his head to the side questioningly.

“What did you say about Ryuichi?” the monk clarified, leaning forward a little. 

“Oh,” Shuichi scratched at his pink locks. “I just said that he’d going to be working on a new song today, so I thought that I’d ask him if he wanted to have lunch with me because I’ll be recording all day today, too.” 

Tatsuha wanted to yell with glee and hug the little singer, but since he’d promised Yuki that he’d keep his hands to himself where Shuichi was concerned, and such demented joy might look more than a little suspicious, he forced himself to sit back in his chair and shrug unconcernedly. “Ah,” was all he said in reply.

He was aware that Yuki’s golden eyes were resting on him thoughtfully, but he let his expression give nothing away. His brother might suspect something, but he couldn’t prove anything. Inside, though, he was nearly giddy. The one aspect of his plan that he’d been unsure of was the fact that Ryuichi might not be in the NG Building today. But now he knew for sure. The Gods loved him, after all! Everything seemed to be falling into place smoothly. He forced himself to nonchalantly pick up his fork and resume eating, although he wasn’t hungry anymore. He felt too nervous and excited to be hungry right at this moment. 

Shuichi finished slurping up the last of his ‘breakfast’. The doorbell rang, and he jumped to his feet. “That’ll be Hiro,” he said. He darted around the table and kissed Yuki on the cheek. “Bye, Yuki, Tatsuha-kun!” he yelled as he disappeared through the arch into the living room like a bolt of pink lightning.

Tatsuha shook his head. “Is there anything he doesn’t do at the speed of light?” he asked the air.

He didn’t expect a reply, so he was surprised when Yuki mumbled what sounded like: “One or two things,” he looked at his brother sharply, but Eiri’s face was unreadable. The author took a last sip of his cup of coffee and got up to rinse his plate out in the sink. “I’ll be in my study,” he informed his younger brother. “Try not to make too much noise, will you?”

Tatsuha leaned back in his chair. “That won’t be a problem,” he replied. "I’m going out and do some shopping.”

Yuki gave him another sideways look, but then visibly washed his hands of the whole matter. He walked away, and Tatsuha heard his study door close behind him with a decisive click. He jumped up, dumped the last few bites of his omelet in the trash, and rinsed off his plate in the sink. He downed the last of the glass of orange juice that he’d poured for himself, and rinsed out the glass as well. Then he went out into the living room and over to the phone. He picked up the phone book that lay bedside it and began to leaf through the yellow pages looking for the shop he wanted. 

He’d researched what he needed on the internet at the University before he’d come to Tokyo. So he knew exactly what he needed, and the name of the shop he could buy it in. It took him no more than five minutes to find the place in the phone book, and he used one of the pages of the pad of paper that Yuki kept by the phone to write down the address. Stuffing the piece of paper in his jeans picket, he went over to the couch and dug his cell phone out of the backpack along with a fanny pack, the wad of yen, and a folder containing certain papers that were part of his plan. He took the papers out of the folder, then shoved the money into the fanny pack, put it on, and turned it so that the pack was resting against the small of his back, out of sight. The last thing that he wanted was to get mugged before he could buy what he needed. 

He snagged his jacket from the coat rack and slung it on. He shoved his cell phone into the pocket as he let himself out of the apartment quietly. He walked towards the elevator, his feet feeling like they weren’t quite touching the ground. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going to be carrying out his plan soon. That he might come face-to-face with his wonderful, beautiful Deity. He’d wished for this for so long that the fact that he might actually get the reality soon was making him feel weird and all out-of-sorts. 

He rode the elevator down to the parking garage where his motorcycle was. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket and flipped it open. He dialed the number of the shop, and when a clerk answered him he asked about the items that he wished to rent. Yes, they had those in the sizes he specified, the clerk told him. He’d put them aside for Tatsuha, and he named the price for a day’s rental. It was well within range of his budget. Cheerfully he told the clerk that he’d be there within an hour to pick them up. He hung up the phone, and indulged in a little cheering since he wasn’t in Yuki’s apartment anymore. “Yes!” He yelled as he pumped his fist into the air. Several residents on their way to their cars gave him rebuking looks, but he ignored them. 

He carefully folded the papers that he’d taken out of the folder and stuck them in his inside jacket pocket. Then he put on his helmet, got on the motorcycle, and drove out into the city. It took him awhile to find the shop, since Tokyo wasn’t his home city. He got lost several times, but he finally found the place. He sighed in relief as he pulled up to the curb and stopped his bike. Climbing off of it, he went into the shop eagerly. The friendly clerk that he’d talked to on the phone produced several packages and a box from under his counter. Tatsuha paid him the rental fee plus a damage deposit, forging a false name on the rental receipt. Then he carried his purchases back out of the store. 

The box was awkward to balance on his bike, but he managed somehow. He rode slowly through the streets of the city until he came to a public park with restrooms. He stopped his bike and awkwardly climbed off of it, taking his purchases into the mens room. He went into one of the stalls and locked the door behind himself. Then he got undressed, and put on the uniform that he’d rented from the shop. He put the cap over his hair, and rolled up his clothes into a ball. He stuffed them into the package that the uniform had come in, and carried the box back out into the restroom. He set it on the sink as he stared at himself in the cracked mirror.

Not bad, if he did say so himself. He looked authentic because the uniform WAS authentic. The costume shop that he’d rented it from guaranteed that it was the same uniform as the ones worn by real electricians, right down to the lettering embroidered on the shirt. :Time to start my new career: Tatsuha thought with satisfaction as he grinned at himself in the mirror. He slung his leather jacket back on over the uniform with a flourish, and left the restroom without a backward glance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tatsuha carries out his plan..

A short time later, Tatsuha parked his bike about a block from the NG Building. He didn’t want to leave it any closer, since at least a handful of the people who worked in the building had seen him on it before. If someone (Tohma, for instance) recognized his bike he was in a world of hurt. He got off and set the box down on the pavement. Kneeling down, he opened it and removed its contents, which consisted of an authentic toolbox and some tools. He removed the papers and a pair of sunglasses from his leather jacket and folded it into the bottom of the empty toolbox. Then he put several items that he’d purchased a few minutes before on top of the jacket, and arranged the tools around them. He closed the toolbox, and put on the sunglasses. With them and the cap on, it would be harder for people to see his face clearly. 

He stood up and hefted the toolbox in one hand. Carrying it and the sheaf of papers, he began to walk briskly down the sidewalk towards the NG Building. He moved confidently, knowing that acting as though you belonged where you were was half the battle. People noticed other people who were acting nervous or suspicious. A light sheen of sweat filmed his forehead, but that was the only outward sign that he was practically shitting himself as he pushed through the glass doors and strode into the lobby. 

He approached the guard on duty at the main desk. He contrived to look bored as he held out the papers. “I have a work order for this building,” he drawled as the guard took the papers from his hand. 

The man looked the papers over. But he wouldn’t find any flaws in them. It had taken Tatsuha weeks to forge them, and he’d signed the bottom with a nearly perfect imitation of his brother-in-law’s signature. It hadn’t been hard to get an example of that from him, and Tatsuha could have had a lucrative career as a forger or confidence trickster. Fortunately for his family, he didn’t exactly have criminal tendencies. He would only go to these lengths for one thing – his one true God, Sakuma Ryuichi.

“I didn’t receive a call about this,” the guard said.

Tatsuha shrugged indifferently. “As you can see, it’s a rush job. I just got it within the last half hour. Apparently some of the wiring got fried in one of your recording studios. Maybe they simply haven’t had time to call it down.” he looked down his nose at the guard. “Why don’t you just call the person who requested it and check?” he said impatiently, in an ‘I don’t have all day’ tone of voice. 

He saw the look of uneasiness that ran over the guard’s face. Tohma was working in the recording studio with Nittle Grasper today, and he most likely would not appreciate being interrupted over something so petty. And an unhappy Tohma was a frightening thing, indeed. Tatsuha felt his muscles relax a little as he clearly saw the guard come to the decision not to bother the Shacho with this. “Never mind,” he said, setting the papers down on his desk. That was all right; there was no way that anyone could trace Tatsuha back to them. “Show me some i.d., and you can go up.”

Tatsuha produced one of his many fake i.d.s. He’d made this one exclusively for his plan, and it had a fake address in Tokyo, stated that his occupation was electrician, and also said that he was 25. The guard looked it over, and then nodded. He handed Tatsuha back the i.d., and also gave him a plastic visitor’s badge that he could clip on the front of his shirt. “Thanks,” Tatsuha said, doing just that. 

He turned away from the guard’s desk and walked towards the bank of elevators. He didn’t look back, which would have been another suspicious behavior. He hit the up button and waited, trying to take deep breaths and quell the nervousness roiling in his stomach. It felt like a whole tribe of butterflies had taken up residence in there. The doors finally opened, and he walked onto the elevator with a sigh of relief. 

He’d been in the building before, of course, so he knew which floor the recording studios were on. He hit the appropriate button and stood still as the elevator began to move upwards smoothly. So far, so good. Of course, there was always the chance that his brother-in-law or Shuichi would see and recognize him, but that was a chance he had to take. A man had to fight for his dreams, after all. He had to take risks or he’d never fulfill them. While Tohma’s wrath was a scary thing to risk, he was determined. He’d already come this far, he wasn’t going to back out now.

The elevator finally arrived at its destination. He took another long breath as the doors slid open and went out to meet his destiny. He felt relief so strong that it almost made him feel giddy when he saw that there was no one around except for the receptionist. He marched up to her desk briskly, his face still set in bored, impatient lines. “Hello. I was sent because there’s some kind of electrical problem in the studio that a band called Nittle Grasper is recording in today. Can you point out which studio that is?” he kept his voice brisk and business-like. 

The receptionist barely glanced at him. She would most likely not remember a thing about what he looked like later on. She said “That’s studio number 12, seven doors down on the left,” she said, pointing down the left-hand hallway.

He said “Thanks,” in an indifferent voice and moved off down the hallway in the direction that she’d indicated.

He had no intention of actually going into Studio 12. But he headed in that direction, approaching a tall potted plant of some kind. It would be perfect as concealment. He stopped for a moment to adjust his cap, and surreptitiously looked back down towards the receptionist’s desk. She had lost interest in him immediately, and all her attention was on something that she was writing. Good. He began to walk again, but instead of opening doors on the left hand side of the hallway, he opened those on the right, instead. He could always tell the receptionist that he’d mixed up her directions if she saw what he was doing. 

He found the perfect room two doors down and across from Studio 12. It was a small conference room. He slid into the room and set the toolbox down on the table. He opened it and took two things out of it. One of those things was a set of earplugs. The other thing was a lot larger, and he held this in his hand as he went back to the door. Peering out into the hallway, he was overjoyed to see that the receptionist’s desk was empty. Most likely she’d gone to the rest room or something. Now was his chance, since there was still no one else in sight. He slid out into the hallway and ghosted back down it to the potted plant, kneeling down next to it to half bury the thing he held in his hand in the dirt at its base. He put the earplugs in, and switched on the device hidden behind the plant. Then he booked it back to the conference room, pushing the door almost shut behind him. He kept it open a crack so that he could look out and see what was happening in the hallway. 

A horrible, dreadful, inescapable sound was now screeching through the entire floor. He could still hear it dimly even through the earplugs. The hidden air horn was making the most appalling racket, and doors flew open the length of the hallway in both directions as people stumbled out of the studios to try to figure out where that awful sound was coming from. Most of them had their hands clapped to their ears to try to deaden it in some way. It didn’t matter that the recording studios themselves were almost soundproof; ‘almost’ was the optimal word. It would still penetrate the recesses of even the most sound tight booths, and there was no way that the technicians could go on recording with that hideous braying, whooping sound going on outside. 

Tatsuha drew back a little as he saw Tohma reel out of Studio 12 with his hands over his ears. He yelled something, but there was no way that he’d be able to be heard over the noise. He moved down the hallway, followed by Noriko. And finally – his God emerged, looking pitiful, his hands also over his ears and his sapphire blue eyes scrunched up in pain. A small crowd of people from the various studios were hurrying towards the elevators, and Ryuichi was being lost in the flood. 

Tatsuha took a deep breath and launched himself out the door. No one gave him a second look as he plunged into the crowd and made it to Ryuichi’s side. They were all too intent on getting the hell off this floor, and away from the staggeringly awful noise. He put his hand on the singer’s arm (oh, Buddha, I can’t believe this is happening! He thought dizzily) drawing him away in the opposite direction as the rest of the crowd. Ryuichi gave him a puzzled, forlorn look as Tatsuha pulled him in the direction of the door at the end of the hall, the one that led to the stairs. 

Tatsuha stiff-armed the door open and tugged Ryuichi out onto the landing. The door shut behind them as he began to climb the stairs, with the singer letting the stranger lead him along docilely. The noise from the air horn had been half cut off by the door shutting and the farther they got towards the next floor up the more it diminished. Tatsuha reached up with his free hand to remove the earplugs. They reached the landing for the next floor, and he turned to Ryuichi at last.

“Can you hear me?” he asked anxiously, worried that the noise might have damaged the singer’s eardrums. 

Ryuichi nodded. “Who are you?” he asked curiously, looking at Tatsuha out of wide, interested eyes. 

“I’m Tatsuha,” he replied.

“Oh,” Ryuichi didn’t seem to think that he needed to ask any more questions, such as why he’d been kidnapped by a complete stranger.

Tatsuha shook his head. “I won’t hurt you,” he said reassuringly, although the singer didn’t look like he was the least bit afraid of Tatsuha. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Ryuichi cocked his head a bit as he studied Tatsuha out of his large, dreamy sapphire eyes. He pulled his Kumagoro from his shoulder and nibbled at one of its ears idly. 

“Well, I’m a big fan of yours, and I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, now,” Tatsuha explained.

Ryuichi brightened up. “You’re a fan?” he repeated happily. “I always like to meet fans,” he smiled dazzlingly at Tatsuha, making the poor monk feel like his brain was going to explode.

Tatsuha gulped. “What I wanted to say…” he began, but Ryuichi forestalled him. 

“Let’s not talk here,” the singer said, looking around at the drab stairwell rather disapprovingly. “Let’s go to my secret place. Come on,” he grabbed Tatsuha’s hand, making the monk gasp, and towed him out of the door and towards the bank of elevators. He was practically skipping, his Kumagoro held in one hand and Tatsuha held in the other. “You’ll like my secret place, na-no-da,” he caroled to a befuddled Tatsuha. 

He let go of Tatsuha’s hand to push the elevator button, making the young monk feel rather bereft. He was jigging in place with impatience, but the elevators were moving slowly due to the number of people evacuating from the floor below them due to extreme noise pollution. Ryuichi sighed and turned to Tatsuha. “Kuma’s wondering what you look like under that hat and the glasses,” he said, pointing to Tatsuha’s disguise. The younger man hurriedly removed both, letting the sapphire eyes take in his face.

The singer’s lovely eyes widened. “You look familiar” he remarked to Tatsuha. “Doesn’t he look familiar, Kuma?” he said to the stuffed pink rabbit in his hand. “Where have we seen you before?”

Tatsuha started to reply that they’d never met, but Ryuichi’s eyes widened. “That’s it!” he almost yelled. “You look like Yuki-san! Are you Yuki-san?” he asked puzzedly. “Have you dyed your hair and put in colored contacts? I didn’t know that you were a fan, Yuki-san.”

“No, no,” Tatsuha replied hurriedly. “I’m not Yuki-san. He’s my older brother. I’m Uesegi Tatsuha. I know we look a lot alike, but I’m a different person, I swear.”

Ryuichi studied his face. “Yes, I see that you are,” he said in an odd tone of voice. He shook his head a bit and smiled widely. “That’s a relief, no-da,” he added. “If Yuki-san had turned out to be a fan…” he shivered faintly. “He’s kinda scary,” he continued.

“You can say that again,” Tatsuha said dryly. The elevator finally arrived, and Ryuichi made a delighted noise and grabbed Tatsuha’s hand again. He bounced onto the elevator, with the younger man in tow.

The singer didn’t immediately drop his hand once they were on board the elevator. Tatsuha felt his breath coming short at the feel of that slender hand curled over his own. He tried desperately to think of something to say – something suave, or charming, or seductive. But his mind was going blank from being too close to his Deity, and also having said Deity holding his hand. He felt like a tongue tied idiot. “Where are we going?” he managed to ask after what seemed like an embarrassingly long time full of silence.

Ryuichi held a finger to his lips, which looked a bit strange since he was still holding his Kumagoro in his hand. “It’s a secret,” he said cheerfully, his sapphire eyes twinkling. 

“Uh, okay,” Tatsuha replied somewhat dubiously. Still, this was his God. He had the right to go wherever he wanted to, with no protest from his young worshipper. 

The elevator dinged to tell them that they’d arrived at their destination. Ryuichi pulled Tatsuha out the opening doors, and the young monk felt a distinct chill when he saw that they were on the top floor. The executive floor. Where his brother-in-law’s office was. 

 

Just where, the young monk thought in horror, was Ryuichi taking him? The singer, unaware of his captive companion’s unease, breezed past the receptionist with a wave and a smile. The woman returned it, for Ryuichi was well liked by just about everybody at NG. She barely glanced at Tatsuha, for she was used to the singer doing much odder things than kidnapping electricians. 

Ryuichi tripped down the hallway, but fortunately for Tatsuha’s blood pressure he headed in the opposite direction from Tohma’s office. “It’s just down here, na-no-da,” he sang lightly, waving Kumagoro rather excitedly in the air.

They reached a door marked Stairs to Roof. The singer happily pulled this door open, letting go of Tatsuha’s hand again so that he could do so. “Come on, Ta-kun,” he cried, darting into the stairwell and hurling himself cheerfully upward.

:Ta-kun?: the younger man thought as he followed at Ryuichi’s heels. They emerged onto the roof, the singer nearly dancing as he spread his arms wide. “Isn’t it great, Ta-kun?” he asked.

Tatsuha didn’t see what was so exciting about the roof, but he nodded anyway. “Yes it is, Sakuma-san,” he replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Ahh,ahh,ahh,” Ryuichi waved a slender finger at him admonishingly. "You can’t call me that. You must call me Ryu.”

“Ryu,” Tatsuha said dazedly.

The singer smiled in approval. “That’s better,” he said. Suddenly, his eyes slid half-closed and his smile took on a slightly sultry cast. “So, Ta-kun,” he almost purred, “Would you like to play a game with me?”


End file.
